


Worth

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Ziall - Fandom, Ziall Horlik - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, M/M, aka kidnapping, references to some kind of slave trade, this is the first time i'm seeing this import button
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He saw light skin, fairer than his own, and the back of a head of blonde hair. He continued mentally documenting the details of his new Superior as they walked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth

**Author's Note:**

> (orignally posted december 2012)
> 
> So I got this prompt that I was skeptical about filling it at first but the person who prompted was an angel so I just had to and I started writing this thing but i’m looking at it and like..it’s going to take forever to finish. So I decided to do a little…thing instead. I kind of took a few liberties as to how intense it was (because i just can’t) but um…I hope this suffices
> 
> Also no beta still so prepare for mistakes and italics abuse. 
> 
> I don’t own One Direction and I don’t claim that anything here is true (and all that jazz)

 

 

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The market was a barrage on his senses. The place he had spent the past few days in (damp, dark, desolate) had been quite different from the busy area he was in currently. They would all be herded into the market every month or so but each time it felt like a surprise assault (as if he didn’t get enough of those already). 

He followed in line, walking quickly, eyes lowered, and if he ever did lift his eyes he was never to look any superior in the eye. Unspoken rules for people like them.

They had been out in the sweltering heat for hours now, but he knew he’d be there until the sun, along with the market, went down and most likely would go back to the dark place he came from. He never got to leave.

"How much?" he heard a voice, with an accent he wasn’t used to, ask.

Someone was being bought.

His Master (as the bastard was ever so keen on being called) laughed and gripped Zayn’s forearm tightly. “This one? Been trying to get him off my hands for _months,_ " he used the hand already on him to shake Zayn like a ragdoll, " a hundred."

_He_ was being bought?

"Only?" the voice answered incredulously (and Zayn almost smiled at the fact that the stranger thought he was worth something but then he caught himself. He shouldn’t have been smiling at the fact that he was being sold like _cattle_ )

"I’d give him to you for free if my boss wouldn’t skin me for it."

"Okay," the stranger that he still had not seen answered and he heard the sound of paper being exchanged right before he felt a warm hand in his own. He stared at it for a second, Superiors were supposed to grip you by the wrist, the forearm, the hair, _never_ the hand.

The hand led him a few paces from where his former Master was stationed and Zayn’s curiosity got the better of him, glancing up to see who this stranger was.

He saw light skin, fairer than his own, and the back of a head of blonde hair. He continued mentally documenting the details of his new Superior as they walked.

His endeavors were abruptly halted with a turn of his Superior’s head and a catching of shocking blue eyes. Zayn was already trembling, looking down and bracing himself for a hard smack, he was _never_ to look in the eyes of his Superiors (and fuck he was going to get sent back for sure).

"Hey, hey," his Superior’s voice came in hushed, soothing tones. "It’s okay."

The light hand neared his face and loosely took hold of his chin, tilting his face up. Zayn fought against the beginnings of tears and stared at the space around his Superior, pointedly avoiding the seas of blue.

"Hey, look at me."

Zayn’s training and developed instinct forced him to obey as soon as the words were spoken ( _God_ , he was weak).

"I apologize, Superior."

Zayn’s voice sounded gruff from misuse and foreign even to himself.

His Superior frowned, opening his mouth then closing it again. (Zayn had a feeling that the man wanted to say something similar to “You don’t need to apologize” but how do you tell that to someone who had been told the opposite for as long as he could remember?)

"It’s Niall, call me Niall"

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Done. I’m actually pretty happy with that. Hope I did okay Ziall anon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> more reposts bc i'm a really lazy amateur writer. on tumblr at halosandsongs. thanks for reading :)


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